Children of Men is proof, if proof were needed, that us Brits make the best science fiction. Although directed by the Mexican Alfonso Cuarón, the film is populated primarily by British actors and is set in a dystopic, fascist future vision of England. Adapted from the fifteen-year-old P.D. James novel The Children of Men (although curiously transposed six years further into the future), the movie is very similar in its existentially downcast tone to contemporary classic 28 Days Later. Having said that, it does feature significantly fewer zombies.
The opening minutes represent a near-perfectly executed setup, which I will refrain from spoiling as the trailer does it better than I ever could. With humanity facing extinction due to a species-wide infertility epidemic, all the worst traits of mankind are coming to the fore. Society has degenerated to the point where foreign refugees are kept locked in cages under armed guard, and no-one will bat an eyelid when a man is kidnapped at gunpoint in broad daylight. Theo Faron, a jaded former activist, is coerced into transporting the world’s sole pregnant woman to safety beyond England’s borders. Despite initial apathy, he is soon drawn into the urgency of the quest as they are pursued by forces intent on using the child for unscrupulous purposes.
This is perhaps the most convincing vision of the future yet committed to film, by turns harrowing and recognisable. The England of 2027 has gone to ruin (although it is portrayed by in-film propaganda as the only nation “still standing” in the face of despair), and is worlds removed from the shiny futuristic gleam exhibited by the majority of American mainstream sci-fi. It’s a superbly credible universe, and its prescience lends it an unusual resonance - sadly, it’s really not too hard to imagine the deterioration of world society to such a level. Indeed, if you read the Daily Mail it doesn’t seem that far away. The inherent survival instinct that underpins the race to save the child, when juxtaposed with these surroundings, is heightened considerably and provides the viewer with a tangible emotional attachment.
Clive Owen in the lead role is finally making good on the promise displayed in his early efforts such as Croupier and the little-seen BBC detective show Second Sight. Owen is at his best when emoting silently as opposed to effing and blinding - witness the scene in which he eavesdrops on a conversation about his son, who died of flu years previously. It’s a sad little moment, reminding me of the scene in Spielberg’s Munich where Eric Bana hears his daughter’s voice for the first time. Like Bana’s role in that film, this is unquestionably Owen’s best performance to date. However, one feels that if he is ever to truly crack into the A-list he will need to find a way of circumventing the residual coldness he seems to invest in every one of his characters. I really want to root for the guy whenever he’s on screen, but it’s sometimes a little tricky to empathise with him. Elsewhere, Michael Caine is his usual good value in an extended cameo as a hippy who grows strawberry-flavoured cannabis, and Julianne Moore has surprisingly little to do as Theo’s ex-wife and leader of the insurgency. The real stand-out, however, is Claire-Hope Ashitey, radiantly vulnerable as the aptly-named Kee, humanity’s last beacon of hope. I was all set to harp on about her fantastic movie debut until I realised she was in Shooting Dogs the year previously, but still, hers is a superbly pitched performance, and one can only hope she builds on it in the future. The cast is rounded out by Pam Ferris as a helpful midwife and Chiwetel Ejiofor as an insurgent commander, proving once and for all that his is the hardest name to spell in showbiz.
The technical prowess on display can’t go unmentioned, with some bravura sequences (particularly the war-torn final twenty minutes) setting a new standard for the use of hand-held photography. It’s here that Cuarón really shows his mettle, investing the film with a great sense of urgency that is echoed in the struggle to keep hope alive. Certainly, it’s been a while since I was as gripped by a film as much as when Theo is tearing through a devastated neighbourhood, gunfire raging around him, while the blood-spattered camera lens tracks his every move. The soundtrack is appropriately (and at times contrastingly) melancholic, and provides a treat for prog-rock fans in the shape of a King Crimson track (in a further nod to the genre, Pink Floyd’s famous pig is later glimpsed over Battersea Power Station). Frankly, I would have had to battle quite hard to avoid being drawn into Children of Men - and why bother? It’s a real treat to be there.
DVD info
The disc reviewed is the region two single-disc edition; also available in region two is a two-disc special edition, featuring very similar extras to the region one release. The feature’s running time is 1 hour and 36 minutes, and it is presented in 1.85:1 picture ratio and Dolby 5.1 audio. Subtitles and language tracks available are English, French and Spanish.
Extras
I seem to have been ridiculously short-changed by the edition I viewed, as the sole extra was a short featurette exploring the intricate camerawork used to accomplish some of the film’s extended sequences. The other releases feature three more featurettes focusing on the (really quite effective) creation of the CGI baby, character development and production design of the film’s futuristic elements. Also included are a collection of deleted scenes, a Cuarón-directed documentary exploring the film’s philosophical themes, and a collection of (uncontextualised) deleted scenes. Clearly an indication that next time I should be more careful which edition I pick up, as the film is certainly deserving of further content.
The 411: Compulsive and presciently elegiac, Children of Men is one of the best science fiction films of the decade, and comes heartily recommended.
